Mia's mother possessed her daughter's eyes, or maybe it was the other way around. Plum-grey circles cradled each, undoubtedly the leftovers of hours of sleepless sorrow.

Despite the gauntness of her bone structure, a gentle expression filled her face and she clung to a rounded bundle wrapped in foil. Yet she remained rooted in the doorway. It was as if the connection between mind and muscles was faulty.

Hazel willed her shoulders to relax and mustered up a cotton-soft smile. Even if it was a veneer, she wished to appear at least moderately at ease, welcoming perhaps. The less she resembled a victor embroiled in a semi-hostage situation, the better it was for all of them.

"Hey there..." Hazel ventured gently, not moving toward the traumatized mother.

Nibbling on the flesh of her lip, she continued to hesitate, almost as stationary as the uncanny bull statue.

Annoyance flared over the faces of the two guards, impatiently waiting in the hallway. "Move." A sharp command caused the woman to jolt, crinkling the foil in her shivering grasp.

"I've got her." Brindle materialized at the woman's side. "It's all right, Naii." He addressed her delicately, like she was his own mother. Placing a loose grip on her elbow, he guided her inside. Yielding, she clung to him like a tow rope.

"You've got ten minutes." The unfamiliar peacekeeper announced before sealing them inside. "Courtesy of Senator Snow."

An eerie pause stretched between the three strangers.

Hazel bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She desired to tell them so many things, but now that they were here, the words had abandoned her.

Though it was wholly unnecessary, as soon as Hazel opened her mouth, Brindle surged forward, sheathing her in a crippling embrace. He smelled of grease and peroxide. Smudges that were too brown to be blood smeared his arms and clothing. His lanky body was quaking as he murmured, "Thank you."

Hazel patted his back. Instantaneously, tears burned behind her eyes. She battled to keep them at bay. However, a congested sniffle from him damaged her resolve. "I promised him I would watch over him."

His reaction fed into hers, eroding her already fragile control. "I know," she murmured.

After another quivering squeeze, Brindle withdrew. His irises grew glassy as he studied her. "Why?"

"Like I said..." She choked out, attention dropping to her pale knuckles. "No evidence."

"Of course." He swiped a smudged sleeve under his eyes.

"If things had been different..." Hazel shuddered, her voice failing her, "It might've been my family."

Naii inched forward, tears filtering down her cheeks. Brindle's actions having instilled within her confidence to approach. Now that she was closer, it was evident her fingers and forearms were peppered with anemic slivered scars.

"Thank you, Miss," Naii whispered, offering up the aluminum package.

Hazel crept to her, drawing the still-toasty bundle into her palms, "Kolaches?"

Naii nodded, clasping her hands over her heart. "Apricot."

Mia's favorite.

Hazel coughed out a quiet, "You didn't have to."

"I did." Naii's voice solidified, "My Mia would've wanted it."

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"Are you a chef?" Hazel questioned.

"No." Naii buried her hands in her blood-dyed pockets. "Slaughterhouse, like most everyone else."

Hazel shuddered at the brutal reality of the District's contribution to Panem. Perusing Brindle's lack of red-stained clothing, she asked, "And you?"

"Luckily, no..." Brindle let out a grimly relieved exhale, "In charge of maintenance of the Mayor's house and government buildings."

Hazel's ears perked up. "Is that how you met Aaron?"

The young man's eyes grew distant, and he murmured his agreement, though it seemed his words were far away. Another place. Another time.

Hell, another life altogether.

Hazel's stare descended to the tin-foiled treat, basking in the subtle heat that was soaking into her flesh. A dull ache spread through her at the memory of Mia's devotion to her mother's kolaches. It seemed to be decades ago, that first night of the Games.

"I meant what I said..." Hazel finally murmured. "About both of them."

Naii smiled sadly as Brindle whispered, "You have no idea how grateful we are. If he were here, he would be as well..."

A penetrating knock made each of them flinch.

Naii tugged Brindle's hand into her own as the door flew open. The irritable peacekeeper from before barked out, "Time's up."

While the room was devoid of a clock or any timepiece, Hazel was certain he had returned too soon.

"Your watch broken, private?" she protested.

"Time is now five minutes." He countered, beckoning for Naii and Brindle to exit. Each sent her a lengthy look as they were ushered out into the hall.

"Courtesy of the Senator?"

"No, ma'am. Courtesy of Gamemaker Trask." The door closed once again, sealing Hazel in the silence. Loneliness and homesickness surged through her.

Keep it together.

Tightening her hold on the balmy parcel, exhaustion's tears burned the backs of her eyes. A sweet, mouth-watering fragrance suddenly reminded her of the hours it had been since she had last eaten.

Maybe food will help.

Ignoring the sting, she crossed the room and settled the foil-wrapped bundle on the table. Peeling back the crinkling layers, released a sauna of caramelized apricot and toasted pastry dough.

Two kolaches waited within. They were partially squashed ovals with pillowy surfaces. Each had been brushed with a glaze that gave them a candied sheen. An oblong split in the center revealed a peek of gold-orange stuffing.

Despite her mother's creativity in the kitchen, Hazel had never encountered a confection quite like it before.

"They really are the best."

Hazel startled at the feminine voice arising from her right side. She circled toward the disturbance.

Mia's irises twinkled like a reflection of Naii's as she limped toward the table. Her tribute uniform was frayed and bore horrific streaks of red. The deepest crimson stain pooled over her thigh muscle. Leaves and twigs stuck out from her dark tresses. The girl smiled despite her haggardness. Pointing to the kolaches, she explained, "You'll see. Mom makes the best."

"Debatable." Aaron's voice dumped ice into Hazel's veins. He was lounging in the chair to her left, clothing dripping, though he appeared not to notice. Seawater collected in translucent pools at his sand-dusted feet.

Hazel staggered backward.

"Ignore him." Mia stuck her tongue out at Aaron and addressed Hazel, "Try them, you'll see."

Hazel swallowed as she watched the two, pressing a clammy palm to her temple.

No. No. Not again. Stop it, Hazel.

"You all right, Seven?" Aaron asked as if he wasn't a nightmare's shadow, casually breaching her reality

Hazel released a weary scoff, "Never been better, Ten."

"Well, come on then." Aaron signaled to the steaming kolaches.

This is so disturbing. What would Dr. Savi think?

She dug her fingers deeper into her flesh.

He would consider me committable without a doubt.

"We are waiting," Mia teased.

Maybe if she ate them, they would disappear.

Hazel timidly paced forward. "Ok, yeah..."

Brushing her fingertips against the warm surface of the pastry, she contemplated the labor and love that went into making it. Naii had undoubtedly used ingredients she could barely afford. With time, she didn't have to craft them. Just for her. In honor of her fallen daughter.

Again, Hazel wrestled with the swelling guilt before finally lifting the dessert to her lips. The dough was soft but firm enough to hold its shape, yielding under the pressure of her trembling grip.

She sunk her teeth into the golden dough that gave way without difficulty. The texture was fluffy, a smidge chewy, with a flakiness that harmonized with the richness. Warmth, buttery sweetness, and bright apricot filling burst onto her tongue.

It was comforting in an unexpected way. Like slipping into a thick quilt before a warm fire, a cozy calm spread from the inside out,

Hazel's eyes popped open, and she released a satisfied sound. Staring down at the dessert, a fresh appreciation swirled within her, "You do have excellent taste."

"I like to think so." Snow's amused voice resonated from the doorway.

Hazel jerked harshly, practically jumping out of her own skin.

Spinning around, the chair wobbled severely, nearly dumping her. Snow candidly scanned the room. His eyebrow ridge quirked before finally settling his scrutiny on her, "Speaking with someone?"